


Like A Shish Kabob

by RiceNoodlesAndCrime



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Based on a Tumblr Post, Comedy, M/M, Mentioned Character Death, Minor Character Death, falling but like not graphic, gabriel and beelzebub are so done with their employees, kind-of graphic death description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiceNoodlesAndCrime/pseuds/RiceNoodlesAndCrime
Summary: Based on:https://thesupersaltystudent.tumblr.com/post/186394053113/i-had-a-dream-last-night-where-aziraphale-fell-and^that Tumblr post.Basically, Aziraphale and Crowley keep falling and rising, because neither heaven or hell want to deal with them
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	Like A Shish Kabob

Gabriel. The fucking archangel. Aziraphale’s boss. And recent bearer of bad news that no, the apocalypse was apparently not going to happen today, was entirely done with today.

He heard steps behind him in the bright white halls of Heaven and sighed deeply.

“Aziraphale this is the 5th time this week,” he said, turning around to face a plump faced, blonde angel who was twiddling their thumbs and pointedly not looking him in the eye.

“Well-” Aziraphale started.

“No.”

“In my defence,” Aziraphale continued, “They were trying to rob my treasured Egyptian scrolls. From the library of Alexandria, no less!” he sighed, nostalgic, “They were in such bad condition when I found them. Scorched at the edges and covered in soot-”

“I don’t care about your dumb books, Aziraphale!” Gabriel roared, “You killed 2 people! And severely injured two others!”

“Ah, yes,” the principality murmured, as if just remembering that sidenote, “that’s why you brought me in here. Well, I didn’t kill them, per say.”

“You didn’t kill them.” he asked, incredulously. Gabriel would have been sweating with rage if he had sweat glands on his mortal form. Or if he knew what sweat or their glands were.

Aziraphale nodded, smiling like the absolute bastard he was, “Nope. They got themselves killed.”

Gabriel knew he was going to regret asking, but he couldn’t resist. “How?”

“Well, you see, they ran into my sword.”

“...They ran in…?”

“Yup!”

“...To your sword?”

“Sort of like a shish kabob.” Aziraphale clarified, even though Gabriel didn't know what a 'Shish Kabob' was, “Ugh! But the smell was terrible. I had to use up so many miracles to get rid of the stench,” he shuddered.

Gabriel, who was pinching the bridge of his nose, did not answer. Instead, he waved his hand and jabbed it towards the ground, a gesture that had become familiar to him while working with the principality.

“Hey wait-” Aziraphale protested breathlessly, “Oh not again-”

All the sudden, Aziraphale could feel his wings jerk out. He heard a whooshing sound and felt himself torn away from heaven, into the depths. He could hear the world’s pulsing beat. the laughter and talk and shouting of humans. And the much quieter, but still complex and notable communication of the rivers and the trees. He saw people and stars and everything in between through a murky haze as he fell through the world.

Now, long ago, there was the first, major fall. It was a tragic and painful event, because God had a flair for dramatics. Fire rained down as the heavens ruptured and split, making way for the falling, writhing forms of what were to be demons. There were screams and feathers filling the air, and the horrible rush of falling through the many, many dimensions the world possesses, until they finally crashed down onto the surface of what was to be hell. It was horrible. It was painful, for the participants and for the viewers. It was beautiful in the way a car crash is beautiful and shocking in the way a mass genocide is shocking. Leaving you numb with the greatness of the horror of it all.

But most of all, it was inefficient.

It took a whole Earth month for the first demons to fall. And heaven could not waste so much time on a dramatic send of these days.

So they found a different method.

Instead of sending off fallen angels in a blaze of pain and fire, they just...chucked them through the world’s dimensions, using a miracle to send them quickly through. Instead of a graceful journey through the dimensions, fire swirling around their bodies, they slingshotted them into the fastest route to Hell. Think of it like a shirt cannon, but way faster. Giving you a lightspeed trip through the sandwich piled dimensions of the universe. 

So Aziraphale saw the dance of the world, the pulse and beat of the stars, and the flashing light of colors not describable to the human mind in the span of a single second.

And then stumbled onto his feet, at the throne of the prince of Hell. Beelzebub.

He folded his wings, brushed off his cream colored jacket and looked to the demon on the cruel throne, who seemed to be preoccupied with something else. The flies around their head buzzed agitatedly, like a mini buzzing storm cloud. They adjusted their blood red sash and glared at a familiar demon looking noticeably unapologetic. 

“Crowley, I swear-” Beelzebub cut themselves off, noticing Aziraphale had suddenly entered, “Oh for crying out loud-” they stood suddenly out of their seat, “-what the fuck is wrong with you two?!”

Crowley visibly brightened when he noticed Aziraphale, waving his hands that were currently in handcuffs, “Angel!”

“Crowley~ my dear boy,” he said brightly, “what did they get you for this time?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, “I may have told a few lies about the “evil deeds”-” he made the quotation marks with his fingers, the cuffs rattling, “i have supposedly done.”

“Except you didn’t do shit!” Beelzebub cried, “The fire started downtown while you were off,” they waved their hands erratically, “frolicking with your ‘angel’”

“Hey, I did leave the lighter there-” Crowley stopped himself, lips pursed, “Well, one of them, at least.”

“And later, you miracled away most of the damage.”

“So that the fire department would be inconvenienced!” Crowley exclaimed, “be called in for a minor fire, and then they miss the real, important fire. People lose faith in local government, get frustrated. Minor evils over widespread areas, Beezy-”

“Never call me ‘Beezy’ again or I swear to Satan I will throttle you Crowley.”

Crowley bit his lip, “Yep. Duly noted,”

Aziraphale went to stand by Crowley’s side, taking his hand and noticing Hastur talking with two other demons and pointing at the two of them standing before Beelzebub, exchanging bets and complaining.

“Whatever, just-” Beelzebub nearly threw off their stuffed fly hat in frustration, “-Go! Get out of here.” they sat back down and muttered under their breath, “Third time this month,”

“See?! Third time. You owe me 5 bucks, Hastur” A gravelly voice said in the back. Beelzebub glared and the whispering stopped immediately.

Crowley shrugged, “See you around 7, Angel?”

He beamed, “Of course,”

Beelzebub rolled their eyes and threw a hand towards the roof. The air around Crowley whistled and distorted, like a strong breeze had picked up. Aziraphale heard a loud Phump, like someone being sucked up a tube. And Crowley was gone. He clasped his hands and turned towards Beelzebub, starting to speak.

“Don’t,” they said, utter defeat coloring their tone, “Just get out.”

And Aziraphale walked out of the halls of Hell, smugly grinning to himself.

Both he and Crowley would end up falling and rising six more times than month, causing both Gabriel and Beelzebub to have several minor breakdowns in their respective personal offices.

And causing Hastur to get very rich.


End file.
